


Take care

by BloodthirstyMerc



Category: DCU (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Apologies, Barebacking, Caretaking, Cooking, Depression, Fandom for Australia Fanworks Auction, Feeding, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medication, Mentions of Death, Recovery, Resurrected Jason Todd, Self-Destruction, Self-Doubt, Self-Hatred, Self-Loathing, Wall Sex, past death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:43:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27652916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodthirstyMerc/pseuds/BloodthirstyMerc
Summary: “You’re killing yourself,” Jason says it so casually like that answers anything.“You tried to kill me,” Tim shouts, and guilt coils in Jason’s gut.{{Fandom For Oz fic}}
Relationships: Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Comments: 9
Kudos: 295
Collections: Fandom For Australia





	Take care

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fancy_Dragonqueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fancy_Dragonqueen/gifts).



The thing with death is that it doesn’t hurt. There’s nothing there to _hurt_. Jason doesn’t remember anything about being dead, which can only mean that it doesn’t hurt, right? Any pain and misery he had before he was killed, was gone. It was like a void had taken hold of him and consumed his body, leaving him feeling completely numb. Time didn’t pass, at least it didn’t feel like it. But nothing felt like anything. It was just like falling asleep, only there are no dreams to soothe you, and no nightmares to haunt you. Death holds nothing; it doesn’t matter what happens to you in your life, the only thing that comes from death, is emptiness.

Waking up buried in his casket was a shock to the system. Jason couldn’t remember what had happened, or why he was tapped in a box under, thankfully, still soft soil. But he couldn’t breathe and clawing his way out of his own grave until his fingers were bloody and his body ached, unable to do more than haul himself out of the earth before it gave up on him, it took what was left out of him. Jason didn’t even have time to take in what had happened around him before he passed out, probably left there to die all over again, if _she_ hadn’t been there.

Waking up to Talia’s face was not something Jason would have ever thought would happen. He’d been through hell, he had _died_ and somehow come back, and somehow, having Talia there for him when he woke after crawling out of his grave was still fucked up. She spoke to him, but her voice was so far away and he just wanted to go back to sleep. And he must have because he doesn’t remember anything.

He comes to, drowning. His lungs filled with what he thinks is water. His body burns and he thrashes on impulse, unable to gasp for air without swallowing mouthfuls of it. And it takes too much energy and effort for him to realise that he can surface, and he’s not trapped. And when he does, pulling himself from the grasp of it, gasping and choking, spitting out everything that was filling his lungs, the burning only gets worse. He screams, he fights against a hold that doesn’t have him. He feels like he needs to crawl out of his own skin, and the spots in his memory suddenly come to him like a smack in the face.

And suddenly everything stops. He’s not in the water anymore, he’s on his hands and knees, coughing so hard his throat feels like it shreds itself to pieces. His body shakes and heaves, and he can’t remember every little detail that lead him here. But once again, when he opens his eyes and lifts his head, it’s Talia’s face that he sees.

And she tells him everything and promises to help him. And all Jason wants is to go home and have Bruce tell him that it was all just a nightmare and that nothing bad happened to him. That everything was going to be okay.

It takes a week of rehabilitation for Jason to realise that this is very real. He died; the Joker beat him and left him for dead in a warehouse set to blow, and Bruce couldn’t get to him fast enough. And it was all his fault because he didn’t want to fucking listen. But by some miracle, or maybe not, he still hasn’t figured that out, he was back. He’d dug himself out of his own grave and Talia had brought him here and put him into the Lazarus pit to heal him.

But the side effects kick in pretty quickly. The pit doesn’t just heal his body, it ruins Jason’s mind. It builds up slowly, over months and months, but Talia does nothing about it. Slowly, Jason's anger and his rage start to get the better of him. He lashes out at the smallest things, he holds his body tense and he wants reasons to hurt people. Any reasons that he can get. People need to be hurt.

_Bruce_ needs to hurt. It’s been months, and Bruce hasn’t come for him. He either hasn’t noticed that Jason’s body has gone missing, or he doesn’t care. And worse of all, Joker still lives. Jason knows because Talia tells him as much, tells him that Bruce doesn’t have the balls to do it. Jason believes her because he knows that Bruce has his moral compass, Jason knows that Bruce refuses to kill anyone, even if they deserve it.

Months pass and Jason has no concept of time anymore, but this anger built up inside him needs a release. Talia doesn’t want him to leave, so he sneaks out in the dead of night. He has no intention to return. He plans to go back to Bruce, to show him he’s alive and convince him to kill the Joker, to allow him to. He deserves at least that, for some kind of closure. For his own justice. Jason deserves the right to end the man who beat and killed him.

Returning to Gotham isn’t an easy process. Jason Todd is dead. He can’t use his name, he has no identification, and he’s unstable. He hasn’t any money to his name or any possessions to give in exchange for anything. He has to be discreet, and careful, which he wasn’t even before death, so it proves to be a challenge for him to get back home. And it is home, no matter what, Gotham is his home, and it always will be.

Arriving back in Gotham, Jason’s bones are alight with new purpose and life. And finding Bruce is all too easy. Well, finding Batman is. Because of course Bruce can’t shut off, and seeing the man in his suit, it lights this fire in Jason’s belly he hasn’t had in months. Hope, it gives him hope, and awe in the same way it did when he first met Bruce.

But it’s quickly, very fucking quickly, ruined. The fire dies, and Jason’s gut twists. The saliva in his mouth suddenly turns sour, bile rising in his throat as his heart aches at the sight before him. Of Batman, _Bruce_ with another Robin. A Robin who isn’t him, a Robin that stands close to Bruce’s side and is kept there by the man. A replacement. Jason almost throws up, and he chokes on the bile he forces back down. Tears burn in his eyes, his hands clenched into tight fists as he watches them from the shadow he stands in until they’ve moved out of sight.

Jason throws up what little he has in his stomach, and he sobs. Bruce not only didn’t care that Jason was gone; he’d already moved on. He’d replaced him, given what was rightfully his to someone else and was back to himself. No one would know that Jason was gone, that Jason had _died_. He was just a place holder, and now, it belonged to someone else. Jason screamed into the night, but it went unheard and unanswered. He had nothing, and he had no one.

\- - -

Timothy Jackson Drake. He was as pretentious as his name sounded. From a well-off family, going to one of the best schools Gotham had to offer, a smart kid who didn’t have an attitude problem. Tim was everything that Jason wasn’t. It was no wonder that he’d replaced Jason, and so easily too.

Bruce must be so proud of his newest Robin. Jason was mortified.

Killing the fucker had been harder than Jason would have thought. It made sense, once Jason stood back and looked at the big picture. He was fuelled by rage, making it hard for him to focus any time that he went after Tim. He acted out of his hatred, he fought sloppily, with the intention to maim and kill being too high on his list that he forgot that Tim could fight too. And he was trained by Bruce. Jason might have more experience and training, but when he’s focused on the kill, all of that goes out the window, and Tim's usually able to get the upper hand and get away with only a few new scars to show for it.

The worse, being the scar across his throat. He’s lucky Jason hadn’t killed him that night. He had been so close. And he knows that he will get him, he just needs to keep the pit rage from making him sloppy.

Jason takes on a new tactic, a few years down the line. His explosive anger and outbursts to try and catch Tim off guard weren’t working, so he needed a new strategy. And stalking was his next best bet. He needed and wanted to find out everything that he could about Drake so that he could catch him by surprise. Because he wasn’t going to let this go.

It didn’t matter that at this point, Jason knew Bruce would never take him in again. He had lost his chance, and the man's love and respect. He would never be Robin again, and he would never be Bruce’s son again. But at this point, it wasn’t about that.

If Jason couldn’t be Robin, Tim wasn’t going to be either.

At this point, Tim _wasn’t_ anyway. He was Red Robin, an alias he’d given to himself when he decided that he’d outgrown Robin. Maybe he thought it would help save his skin. Maybe he thought it would make Jason back off. He was mistaken if that was the case. It didn’t matter what he called himself anymore. He stole from Jason. He took his place, he took Bruce from him. He had to pay, just as Joker had to. But while Bruce kept Jason from Joker as best as he could, for reasons Jason couldn’t understand, he found it more difficult to keep Tim from Jason’s grasp.

Stalking Tim was easy. He worked for Bruce in his day life and night life, he was Tim fucking Drake, he wasn’t hard to follow around, to track, to keep tabs on. There was a lot of focus on Tim in general, so it made sneaking around to find out all of the little details so much easier for him.

Jason was going to get his claws into Tim’s life and rip him apart from the inside out.

At least, that was the plan.

\- - -

Tim’s just freshly eighteen, and Jason’s entire fucking plan is falling apart between his fingers. Tracking and hunting Drake, keeping tabs on him, it’s all too easy, easy enough that Jason thinks maybe Tim wants him to see his life. But Jason can’t buy that. Tim’s so careful about who he actually is when he’s not Drake-Wayne or Red Robin, that Jason finds it hard to think Tim would actually want anyone looking into his life.

Jason’s clearly just that good. Because he’s able to set up cameras in Tim’s home, he’s able to put trackers on him and always know what the hell Tim’s up to and when. And he finds, that for all the smart that Tim is on the outside, the person that he has become isn’t what Jason would have thought.

He’s all smiles for the cameras, he’s brave in his suit, he has a lot of friends as Red Robin, but Tim Drake? Behind it all, is a very sad person. And not just in the way that makes you pity him because he’s pathetic. No, Tim Drake is depressed, and lonely.

Jason didn’t know what to expect, but it wasn’t this. And seeing it really fucks with Jason.

Tim doesn’t care for himself, that’s the short of it.

Tim eats garbage, and that includes food he doesn’t fridge for a few days because he’s too exhausted or busy. He doesn’t drink enough water, he barely fucking sleeps unless he’s actually passed out from exhaustion or literally having been knocked out.

He never shuts off. Jason watches in horror as Tim goes four days without sleep before his body shuts down on him and he passes out at his desk with a million things going on around him. He’s a danger to himself at this point.

He relies on caffeine, so much so that Jason sees the way that he almost loses his mind when he doesn’t get any, the way that he’s actually physically sick after not having a coffee or energy drink for twenty-four hours.

Jason’s never seen anything like it.

He thought he was bad. He slept as few hours as he could every day, he powered through life with a cigarette between his teeth, relied on fast food a lot when he couldn’t be bothered cooking, but nothing this bad. He’s never seen a human keep up the façade of being okay on the outside so well as he crumpled on the inside.

Tim should be on medication, Jason finds out. He’s seeing therapists, and they have no idea what to do with him. He’s prescribed meds for insomnia, anxiety and depression and he takes none of them. Every new bottle goes down the drain the moment he gets it home. Jason watches from afar as Tim Drake slowly kills himself.

And he’s just turned fucking eighteen.

Jason may have died, he may have more issues than most would be able to handle, the pit rage that’s in his bones still making it harder to mentally handle those problems, but he’s not nearly this bad. Just shy of actually physically hurting himself or trying to take his own life, Tim is killing himself. And it’s the slowest, most painful suicide Jason has ever seen.

Jason realises that he can’t kill Tim, even if at this point, it would probably be a mercy killing. He can’t do it, because that would be taking the life from someone who’s already at the worst point in their life. Tim’s young, and he _should_ have so much life in him and he doesn’t. And realising that Jason can’t kill him, makes Jason also realise that he never really should have had a reason to in the first place. Tim did nothing to him, it’s not his fault that Jason’s life was ripped from him, and it’s clear that Tim has no intention to be better than him. Not with the way he cares for himself. He doesn’t even care for himself, that was the reality of it.

Tim needs help. It’s obvious that Bruce isn’t doing anything about this, maybe he doesn’t even fucking know, which is scarier. Jason sees glimpses of Dick offering anything he can to help Tim, but it doesn’t seem like enough at all. Dick doesn’t know the worst of it, that much is obvious, and Bruce knows nothing. So, Tim’s able to continue to slowly destroy himself and they’re oblivious to it.

But not Jason, he sees all of it. And he knows that he has to fucking look after the kid because he’s not going to look after himself.

It’s probably not the smartest idea Jason’s had, but he definitely doesn’t think he shouldn’t do something for Tim. He’s not a guardian angel by any means, but the least he can do is offer Tim something so that he doesn’t end up getting himself killed, or allowing his body to shut down completely.

But Jason can’t just insert himself into Tim’s life and try to fix the kid, because that’s not going to help. And he’s not trying to fix him, he’s just trying to help. His own life was taken from him, and it’s changed him into a person he doesn’t really like being. He’s not going to allow Tim to throw away his chance at life.

Step one is simple; getting Tim more money. He’s not at all in a bad place financially, Jason very quickly comes to realise, but he doesn’t allocate anything toward proper fucking sustenance. Tim can’t be healthy with the way he’s eating. Jason starts leaving shopping money on Tim’s kitchen twice a week. Enough for some decent meals in the week, so long as Tim actually spends it how he needs.

Tim doesn’t notice the first payment for two days, which is concerning on its own. And when he does, he stares at the money, a couple hundred bucks and shrugs, pockets it in his wallet and that’s it. Then with the subtle hint of an actual notepad with “shopping” scribbled across the top under the cash, Tim doesn’t use it. Nor does he even pay attention to said notepad.

Jason tries the method for three weeks, and each time Tim doesn’t look more than a little confused about the appearing cash, but he very clearly, doesn’t think much on it because no one is ever questioned about the cash. He probably thinks it’s Dick or Bruce leaving him something, but that’s about as far as the thought probably goes.

But after three weeks, with six payments sitting in Tim’s wallet, or put away, cashed in at the bank, or god forbid, spent on more caffeine and junk food, Jason decides to change up his strategy.

It’s riskier, but he figures that it’ll get more attention, and hopefully will get some kind of idea in Tim’s fucking head. Jason goes straight to buying groceries for Tim. He leaves recipes for the ingredients he purchased on the counter where he’d been leaving the cash.

The first shop goes how Jason expects as he watches Tim through the cameras he planted.

Tim calls Dick first, and asks about it, holding the fridge door open and staring into it like there was an alien before him. And when Dick finally convinces Tim that he didn’t do it, Tim calls Bruce. The same story, of course, and Tim’s left just as confused as he had been with the money.

To Jason’s delight, Tim cooks the meal that night, and he seems to enjoy it, which makes Jason feel even better.

But Jason only gets away with buying Tim shopping two more times, only one of those times resulting in another meal, before Tim’s paranoia kicks in. He doubles up the systems on his apartment, and Jason’s unable to break in, and he definitely sets off multiple alarms, because Tim shows up with barely enough time for Jason to slip off without getting noticed.

Which is when Jason realises that he can’t play this game anymore. He needs to help Tim, and he needs to do it properly.

It’s a Friday, and Jason knows Tim’s meant to have finished work an hour ago, so he doesn’t feel bad about breaking in and forcing Tim out of his office. He’s sure Tim’s watching him on whatever cameras he reinstalled, but Jason doesn’t care. He’s not packing, and he’s not here for a fight. He’s just here to help.

Tim doesn’t take more than five minutes to show up, which means some serious speeding on his part, or he took other means to get here, but either way, he’s out of breath, but clearly fuelled by adrenaline. Jason doesn’t move or say anything as he looks over his shoulder at Tim from across the room, waiting for him to register who the hell is in his home.

Tim’s hand goes to his hip and he snarls a little, on high alert, but the tension in his shoulders drops after a moment when he realises that Jason’s standing at his stove, and he’s _cooking_.

Tim’s mouth moves, but no noise comes out, besides his heavy breathing. Jason wets his lips and turns around a little more, standing side on to the stove so that his attention isn’t off it, but so that Tim can see what he’s doing with his hands.

“Sorry I had to break in, you made it hard for me to sneak in and force real food onto you,” Jason says because there’s no point in being coy about this. Tim’s staring at him like he can’t comprehend what’s going on in front of him. Maybe he can’t.

“You were the one giving me money. Oh my god, was that fucking _drug_ money?” Tim asks, his jaw-dropping and Jason rolls his eyes.

“No, it was normal ass money.” And there’s probably a sexworker joke in there, but now is not the time for that.

“What’s going on? Why the fuck are you giving me money and food and… cooking in my apartment?” Tim asks, his voice rising and Jason clicks his tongue. He looks back to the stir fry he’s making and continues on with it.

“You’re killing yourself,” Jason says it so casually like that answers anything.

“You _tried_ to kill me,” Tim shouts, and guilt coils in Jason’s gut.

“I know. And no amount of apologies or good deeds will fix that, but that’s not why I’m here. I was so fucking angry at Bruce that I lashed out at you. I wanted to kill you, so, I’ve been stalking you. And when I realised how fucking… I couldn’t hurt you, I _can’t_ hurt you, Tim. You’re just a kid, you’re barely eighteen and… look at yourself, and your habits… you’ve got more problems than me already, that’s not fucking good.”

Granted, Jason’s only three years older than Tim, but he thinks he’s handling life a lot better, murderous intentions aside. And he’s clearly doing better with that too because he can’t even think of the last time he shot someone he’s been too focused on Tim lately.

“Why do you even care?” Tim scoffs, and he finally lets go of whatever he had his hand on and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Because I didn’t get the choice. My life was taken from me and ruined, and I’m somehow here, lucky enough for a second chance, but there’s no second chance for you. You can’t ruin yourself, it’ll just make it easier for everyone else.” Jason sighs. He’s not looking at Tim anymore, because he can’t. He’s not sure what he’ll see.

Tim’s silent for a long time though, which almost makes him look, but he manages to keep his focus on the food.

Tim steps up to him, arms still crossed, and Jason dares a glance. Tim peers into the pan, watches it for a moment before he looks up at Jason again. Jason meets his eyes, unsure what to think. “So… I just have a babysitter now?”

“I’m not babysitting you.”

“Right, so what’s that then?” Tim points to a bag on the counter beside them. It’s very clear that it’s from a pharmacy. Jason frowns.

“I want to help, okay? If you can’t look after yourself, I’ll do it.”

“I don’t believe that you’re doing this just out of the kindness of your heart.”

“You don’t have to believe it, but it’s the truth.” Jason scoffs.

“So, I’ll just be on meds for the rest of my life?” Tim’s tone is sharp. He’s pissed off, and he has more than enough reason to be. But that doesn’t mean that Jason’s not going to get pissed off too.

“You won’t have to if you help your body out.” Jason snaps.

“Are you even on meds? You fucking should be.”

“I am.” Jason grabs the bag and pulls it over to them, opening it up and pulling out the pill bottles in it. He slams them down on the counter. Some of them have his name on them, the others with Tim’s. “I’m going to help myself if you let me help you.”

“Seriously, you’re going to try guilting me into this?”

“That’s not what this is. I want to help you, and I know at some point you wanted to help me. So… we’ll help each other, and ourselves. And hopefully… maybe we’ll get better together.”

Again, Tim falls silent for a while. He’s still staring at the pills. Jason turns his attention back to the food he’s cooking. This hasn’t gone how he’d hoped, and now he’s sure that Tim’s going to kick him out, and Jason’s not going to be able to help him. He’ll watch Tim destroy himself, and be helpless to do anything about it.

Tim sighs, and Jason looks back to him. The tension in his shoulders is gone, and he reaches up to loosen his tie. “Are you going to ask me to cut you a key?”

Jason’s lip twitches, but he squashes down the want to smile and looks back to the stir fry.

“No. Are you going to cook for yourself?”

“I can’t promise that, at all. You’ll need a key.” Tim murmurs. Jason chews the inside of his lip.

“I can’t do this for you every day.”

“I know.” Tim nods. Jason’s not sure what that means, so he just nods too. Tim steps away from the stove. “I’m going to get changed.”

“Yeah, okay. This’ll take a little while, if you wanted to properly clean up?”

“Sure.” And then Tim turns away and Jason watches him walk off. He’s not sure what he’s gotten into, or how it’s going to go, but it’s a step in the right direction… right?

\- - -

Jason gives Tim space for a whole week. He takes the bugs and cameras out of Tim’s place, and he stays away. He keeps his promise, he takes his meds, he eats as healthy as he can, when he can, and sleeps as much as he’s able. But he has no idea if Tim makes the same effort. He’s not expecting an instant one-eighty on Tim’s behaviour, that would be insane. But he hopes that he at least tried.

He gives Tim a week, which means it’s Friday again when he shows up at Tim’s apartment. Tim’s meant to have finished work, so Jason rings the bell and waits.

And he’s genuinely surprised when Tim actually is home. Out of his work uniform and… looking like he’s slept. Jason offers Tim a small smile. “Sorry I didn’t call, don’t have your number.”

“I feel like that’s a lie.”

“Well, to be fair, you never gave it to me.”

“But you have it.” Tim hums, looking Jason up and down. “Come to check on me?”

“Guilty.” Jason shrugs. Tim nods and clicks his tongue. He steps aside and offers for Jason to come in.

“Y’know, out of spite, I was going to throw out everything; the pills, the food… hell even my fucking pots and pans. But I slept on it and I realised that… you’re right. And if you can come back from everything you went through and even want to try to be better, I can try too.” Tim says as he leads Jason into his place. Jason isn’t sure how he feels, but it’s not at all bad.

“I’ve only cooked once though, I’ll admit. Cooking… is not my strong suit. But I have been eating better. And yes, taking my pills. It’s slow going.”

“I didn’t expect it to be easy. It’s _not_ easy. I’ve been struggling too, but I’m glad you’re at least trying.” Jason admits. He sees Tim’s little smile, and it makes him smile too.

“Yeah, it’s not easy.” He agrees. “Did you… want to help me cook something tonight? For the both of us?”

“Yeah.” Jason nods a little too eagerly. Tim looks up at him and smiles wider.

“Cool, because I have no fucking idea what I’m doing.”

They laugh, and it’s real and nice and Jason doesn’t know what this feeling in his chest is, but he hopes it never leaves.

\- - -

Jason starts to make it a habit to catch up with Tim at least once a week if he can manage to get to his place. If not, he makes sure that he keeps in contact with him.

At one point, a couple months in, while he’s over, Dick shows up to Tim’s place and Jason regrettably sneaks out the window and messages an apology to Tim. He’s not ready to face anyone else yet, especially not Dick. But as he’s silently making his escape through Tim’s bathroom window, he overhears Dick saying that Tim looks _good_ , and he can’t help that he smiles a little to himself. Because Tim did look healthier, he did too. They were making great progress.

Tim doesn’t hold it against him, luckily, and Jason promises to come over the next day. And he does, and they spend time together as they normally would.

They don’t talk about the rest of the family. Tim doesn’t bring up any reason to pester Jason about why he can’t face Dick or Bruce, because he more than likely understands it. After all, as far as they know, he’s out for blood, and they aren’t safe from that. But Jason doesn’t have intention to hurt Tim, or Dick anymore. He can’t promise that he won’t hurt Bruce though, because he’s still holding onto some of that rage. But he doesn’t want him dead anymore. He just wants someone else to feel the pain he did, and he believes that Bruce deserves it.

So, they don’t talk about that. Tim tells him about work, about the Titans, about how things are just getting better for him, and Jason listens. He talks about Roy, about Kori, how he’s actually making connections to them, despite everything, that he might even consider them friends and not just teammates. Jason sees the way that Tim lights up at that.

Jason doesn’t talk about the fact that he’s still not clean of what he’s been doing. There’s blood on his hands, and still fresh blood too, and he’s sure Tim knows that. But Tim respects that this is who Jason is, this is what he has to do, and he’s not hurting innocent people. He’s stopping murderers, drug lords, mob bosses, people who don’t care who gets hurt. Which is all Jason’s ever really focused on since even before he came back from the dead. Stopping monsters so that innocent people can be safe, that’s what matters to him.

At some point, Jason tries to think of Tim as a brother, but he can’t. He can’t look at Tim like he used to Dick, like he might be able to again one day. He can’t see a brother in him. Not because he doesn’t think they’re close enough, or anything like that. It’s just because he can’t look at Tim and not feel whatever it is that’s curled up in his chest trying for his attention. He feels too close, closer than a brother, and he doesn’t know what to do about it.

Which leads to the choice that if he can’t figure it out, he’ll let something else.

Tim raises an eyebrow at Jason when he opens the door to him standing there, their usual meeting time and date, but he’s got a six-pack tucked under his arm, already with two out in his hand. One of which he holds out in offering to Tim.

“I’m eighteen Jason.”

“Which means you're legal in other parts of the world. C’mon, we deserve a break.”

“Is this your way of doing better? Encouraging underage drinking?” Tim asks as he pushes the door open further and allows Jason to step in.

“Look if you don’t want one, I’m not going to force you. But the offer is there.” Jason shrugs. “Sorry to say, I’m having a few. It’s been a rough week.”

The door latches closed, and Tim falls into step beside Jason. He looks up at him before his gaze trails down Jason’s body. He’s analysing him, trying to see if he can find any points on Jason’s body that suggest that he’s injured.

“I’m fine, baby bird.” And that nickname has been coming up more in the recent weeks. Tim doesn’t seem to mind though, so Jason has no intention to stop.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Tim asks, when he concludes that it’s not been a physically taxing week, but a mentally one. Which it has, and Jason doesn’t want to think about it anymore. Which is half the reason for the alcohol. The other half is because he wants whatever monster is in his chest to come out of hiding and reveal itself.

“I want to drink a few beers, have a nice meal and maybe pass out on your couch halfway through a movie,” Jason says as he puts his things down on Tim’s kitchen counter.

There’s a pot on the stove, already bubbling away happily. Sometimes Jason came over earlier and would be the one to cook, sometimes they cooked together, and other times, Tim cooked for them now that he was more confident in his cooking skills. Jason moves toward the pot, but Tim intercepts him.

“No peeking, sit your tired ass down and relax,” Tim says, his hand coming up to Jason’s chest. He gives the smallest push, and if Jason didn’t want to move, he wouldn’t. But he does take the step back, smirking slightly.

“Should I be worried about what you’re cooking? It smells good.”

“You’ll like it,” Tim assures. Jason believes it without any thought to not to. He backs up all the way to the kitchen counter again and takes up one of the stools. He takes one of the beers and opens it up, taking a large mouthful and swallowing it with a loud sigh.

“So, how’s your week been?” He asks because he wants to hope that Tim’s has been better than his own. Tim shrugs as leans against the other side of the counter. His eyes are on the other beers.

“I can’t complain. Nothing exciting, but nothing harrowing either. Pretty boring I guess.”

Jason nods. “No intense board meetings then?”

“It's hard to stay awake in most of them.” Jason sees the way that Tim’s fingers twitch before he finally reaches out. But he doesn’t grab for the other beer, he takes Jason’s.

And Jason’s forced to watch with his breath in his throat as Tim lifts the bottle to his mouth and takes a sip. The muscles in his chest feel tight, and it shouldn’t get to him as much as it does, because there’s nothing fucking special about Tim drinking from his beer.

Tim frowns a little, but he goes in for another sip.

“You actually enjoy this?”

“You don’t drink to enjoy it.” Jason’s surprised by how clear his voice is. He reaches out for the bottle, but Tim straightens up, still holding onto it.

“You said that the offer was there.” And the way that Tim smirks, it’s criminal. Jason scoffs but reaches for the unopened bottle and screws off the cap.

Tim moves over to the stove, opens up the pot and stirs whatever is inside. It smells even better, and Jason’s pretty sure it’s some kind of beef stew, but he doesn’t want to assume or guess. He’ll wait for it to be ready. After all, if Tim’s so confident in it, he’s sure it will be worth it.

“You know,” Tim starts, still staring down into the pot, his hand moving in slow circles. The grip he has on his bottle is firm, nervous-looking. “If you want to talk about something, you don’t have to get us intoxicated first.”

Jason blinks slowly and doesn’t realise that he’s lifting his beer to take a mouthful until he’s pulling the bottle away again. He hasn’t got nearly enough alcohol in his system for this, for Tim to be figuring him out so damn easily.

“Is there something you want to talk about?” Jason asks instead of giving a proper response. Tim taps his fingers against his bottle and takes another sip like he’s trying to psych himself up. The irony.

“There’s something I want to hear from you.” He glances over at Jason, but he doesn’t look fully at him. Jason meets his eye, and he swallows. It should be obvious enough, it should be clear what Tim means by that, and yet Jason’s not entirely sure that he’s right.

He takes another decent mouthful of his beer. Both to stall, and because he’s hoping the faster he drinks it, the quicker it will get to him. Jason’s by no means, a lightweight. He’s aware of this, and yet he’s hoping somehow that the light beer he’s brought with him will act like fucking whiskey right now.

Tim doesn’t push, he doesn’t even keep staring at Jason expectantly. He goes back to stirring the food like everything was normal, like he hadn’t just opened up the can Jason was trying to force to stay shut. Though, he wasn’t really, was he? That’s the whole reason he even suggested they drink tonight, to have a helping hand in opening that fucking can.

With a sigh, Jason looks down at the countertop. He draws random patterns on the marble as he tries to think of the best way to word this. As he tries to think of a way to tell Tim that he doesn’t see him as family because he’d rather see him as a partner. As he tries to think of a way to tell Tim that he just can’t stop thinking about him, no matter how hard he tries.

“It’s been a long time since I knew what I wanted for myself. For a long time, all that mattered was making someone proud, it was trying to prove someone wrong, prove myself, make sure people knew I wasn’t worthless. And it took dying, it took seeing you tearing yourself apart for me to put myself first, while still helping you.” Jason takes in a deep breath, and when he lets it out, he feels like he’s exhaling every worry that he has in his bones, only for them to cloud in his face and make it hard for him to take in another breath without inhaling them again.

“I want… to have something. Because for the first time in years, I’m focused on what I want, not what someone else wants from me. And I want you.”

It sounds so selfish, but that’s kind of the whole point, right? Jason’s been putting other people’s wants and needs before his own for so long, and it’s time to be honest with himself about what he wants. And he wants to be with Tim, he wants _Tim_. Because Tim has given him so much just by allowing Jason to be himself, by allowing Jason to help him. Because he understands what hell on Earth is like, he understands why Jason is the way he is and why he does what he does. Tim understands him, and Jason doesn’t want to let that go.

Tim’s silent for a while, the only sound being the bubbling of the food in the otherwise silent kitchen. Jason doesn’t even lift his gaze. Maybe he was wrong in what he thought Tim wanted to hear. Maybe Tim was hoping Jason would see him as a brother, maybe he wanted to have the connection to Jason like he has with Dick. And now Jason’s just royally fucked that up.

Before Jason can stupidly try running away from his problems like a coward, his attention is drawn to movement at his side. He lifts his head, and he’s not sure how he didn’t hear Tim stepping over to him, but it doesn’t matter. Tim runs his hand through Jason’s hair, fingers toying with the white streak in his fringe before sliding down the side of Jason’s face, and resting on his stubbled jaw. Jason can’t swallow the lump in his throat, feels like he can barely breathe as he stares up at Tim with tension in his muscles.

Tim shuffles even closer to him, like if he could fit between Jason and the island, he would. But Jason can’t get himself to move, so Tim more presses into his side, which isn’t exactly a problem either. The contact is nice, Tim’s warm, and Jason’s not cold but he would happily accept Tim’s heat any day.

Tim’s lips are turned up in a soft smile, something fond, and it helps the beating of Jason’s heart calm down. His thumb ghosts over Jason’s bottom lip. Jason’s mouth parts with a breath and his fingers twitch around his beer bottle before he’s finally able to let go. He reaches up but doesn’t make contact before Tim’s leaning in. His hand chases, comes to rest against the back of Tim’s neck as their lips meet, and Jason’s heart feels like it lunges forward in his chest, as if trying to get closer to Tim.

The kiss is chaste, but Jason isn’t going to push for more right now. His eyes blink open slowly, the feeling of Tim’s lips against his own staying prominently against his mouth. Tim leans back as his hand trails down the side of Jason’s throat and to his chest. He’s smiling again, and Jason manages to smile back. Jason’s own hand stays against Tim’s skin until he withdraws completely and steps out of his reach. Jason’s chest twists with the silence that holds between them, unsure what to think, unsure what to say if he should even say anything at all.

It’s not until Tim’s back at the stove, and he looks back at Jason, still smiling, that finally, something is said again.

“You overthink too much,” Tim says, sounding almost smug. Jason scoffs and straightens up a little, licking his lips, his heart beating a little faster than he wants it to.

“Says you. Overthinking is your thing at this point.” And it’s not what he thought would come from them kissing, but at least it feels normal between them. Tim nods his head like he’s accepting of this.

“I’m not going to overthink this.” Tim glances at Jason, his lip between his teeth. “I know what I want too.”

Jason doesn’t think that he’s going to stand up until he already is. He moves, walking up to Tim with slow steps.

“I do too. I definitely want to kiss you again.” He says as he steps up behind Tim. His hands come to rest on Tim’s hips and he’s happy that Tim leans back into his touch a little.

“I’m cooking, Jay.” And Tim’s not the only person who calls him that, but it feels like it’s always held a different weight when he does. Jason loves hearing it.

“Just one kiss, it won’t hurt,” Jason murmurs softly, and he doesn’t even have to try to get Tim to face him. He turns on his own, and his arms come up around the back of Jason’s neck.

Jason leans down and kisses him again. He savours it this time. It lingers, and Tim doesn’t pull away. And if one kiss turns into a few more, neither of them complain about it.

\- - -

It’s only four days later that Jason finds himself at Tim’s apartment again. There was no plan for him to show up, but he couldn’t help himself.

They’d had dinner that night, a great beef stew that Jason couldn’t get enough of, and ended up on the couch where Jason predicted they would. Only instead of passing out, Jason found himself half distracted by Tim pressed into his side. They didn’t make out the whole time, but it was close. Because Tim felt good against him, and Jason felt like he was making up for lost time, and apologising for everything he’d done through his actions, rather than the words he still can’t get out.

And really, Tim was just as guilty of it as Jason was, so he didn’t feel even a little bit bad that he had no idea what was going on in the movie they were meant to be watching because Tim was just too damn distracting.

Jason just can’t stop thinking about it. He can’t stop thinking about kissing Tim or wanting to just be close to him. So, he’s here, again, even though he’s not meant to be because right now, he wants to be.

Jason isn’t even sure if Tim’s home, so he’s a little surprised that he does answer the door. He’s also relieved, too. Jason smiles, a little lopsidedly, and Tim seems to brighten up at seeing him. Which, in turn, makes Jason brighten up too.

“Hey, what’re you doing here?” Tim seems to know, the look on his face says a lot more than he probably realises. Jason leans against the doorframe, and his eyes trail down Tim’s body a little. His thoughts have been getting away from him lately, and it’s hard to keep them from surfacing now with Tim in front of him again.

“I wanted to see you,” Jason says, simply. The implication is definitely there. Tim snorts and steps aside so that Jason can come in.

“If that’s how you want to word it.”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you.” Jason’s quick to admit it as he steps past Tim. Because they’re both thinking it, and they both know it’s the truth. Tim grins as he closes the door and steps up to Jason.

“I haven’t either, honestly. I was disappointed you didn’t stay the night.” Tim clicks his tongue before he lets out a sigh. Jason turns into Tim and grabs hold of his waist.

“I didn’t want to impose.”

“For future reference, you couldn’t impose.” Tim states as his hands come up to rest on Jason’s chest. “Did you really come here just because you wanted to make out? How romantic.”

“I’ll admit, that’s mostly it. But I… I really did just want to see you too. Being close to you… feels safe. I missed you.”

Tim’s chewing the inside of his lip, Jason can tell by the way it moves, by the way Tim grimaces a little when he clearly bites too hard and it becomes uncomfortable. His hands move up and wrap around the back of Jason’s neck.

“That really is romantic. I missed you too.”

“And I really… I should have asked you out that night, but I didn’t. And I’m not going to assume what we are, or force anything. But I wish I had asked you out, and I didn’t want to wait until we met up again to ask you.” Jason weirdly feels out of breath. He didn’t really realise that maybe he might have been holding it in while he poured his heart out. Kissing is one thing, Jason knows firsthand to never assume a kiss means anything, or to confuse lust with love. He is taking a risk, but it’s one he knows he has to, one he hopes will pay off.

“I don’t know if you could have expected any answer but a yes.” Tim laughs lightly, but it’s a little nervous sounding. He’s not unsure, he’s just caught off guard, like he too didn’t want to assume. It makes Jason’s heart sing.

“Like I said, I wasn’t going to assume,” Jason repeats, and Tim’s hand comes to cup his cheek, thumb stroking over his skin.

“Well, it’s definitely a yes.”

It’s more than enough for Jason. It would have been more than enough had Tim just nodded. Jason didn’t care. He got to have Tim now, he got to be with him, and be close to him. It wasn’t Jason’s intention when he decided that he wanted to help Tim. He had no thought to get with him, he wasn’t even interested in him like this. But it developed naturally, and Jason wasn’t going to try stopping that. Tim, through all of this, has somewhat become like home. He makes Jason happy, he makes him smile, he makes him want to be better, he makes Jason feel safe. He has someone he knows he can trust, someone he can rely on, someone that will be there for him through it all. Not to discredit his friends, but it’s different with Tim. Because it’s a different kind of feeling, one that Jason didn’t realise that he needed.

He ducks his head and meets Tim for another kiss, his own hands coming up from Tim’s waist to cup his face between his palms. He holds onto Tim, melts into the feeling of them together, of Tim pressed close into him when his arms come around the back of his neck and around his lower back. And he feels how Tim’s fingers curl into the fabric of his hoodie, how they tangle in his hair and he clings like if Jason so much as moved in the slightest, Tim would yank him back tight against his body.

Which Jason would not at all be against.

As it is, Jason holds Tim as he does until the contact isn’t enough for him. He keeps one hand cupping Tim’s cheek, but the other comes around his waist and pulls them impossibly closer together. He breathes in Tim, and Tim breathes him in, and all he can taste is the lingering bitterness on Tim’s tongue from his coffee and the chasing flavour that just is _Tim_. And for a moment, that’s all Jason can focus on.

Until he realises how biting Tim’s hold is. Until he realises how tight Tim’s arms seem to squeeze. Until he realises how firm Tim’s kissing him, and the way that he’s breathing a little harsher. And then the weight of Tim’s hips pushing into his own catches up to him and something in Jason comes alive. It twists and grows, and it makes his body heat up perfectly.

Jason exhales and pushes into Tim. He’s forced to stumble back, to move until his back hits the wall in his hallway. The breath leaves Tim’s lungs as Jason grabs hold of one of his arms and pins it to the wall beside him. He breaks the kiss, only to read the look on Tim’s face.

His lips are spit slick, a deep red and parted with his heavy breathes. His cheeks are flushed in the slightest, but it’s the fact that Jason can barely see the blue of his irises that gets a grunt forming in the back of his throat.

Jason trails his fingers slowly up the inside of Tim’s wrist, into the palm of his hand before he slots his fingers between Tim’s own and squeezes his hand. Tim squeezes back, but he can’t move his hand away from the wall without putting proper force into it. Force that he doesn’t even try to use as Jason holds him pinned where he stands.

Jason tilts his head and kisses the side of Tim’s neck. His lips linger for a moment, coming away from Tim’s skin with a soft smacking noise. “When you said you’d been thinking about me…”

He trails off in the hopes that Tim will finish his thought for him. They both know it, and the little whine that Tim gives only confirms that he knows he’s been caught. He squirms against Jason’s bulk, and it would be a criminal lie for Jason to say that he doesn’t love the way that it feels, just to have Tim moving against him at all.

“Less talking,” Tim murmurs, “otherwise, I’ll pin you to the floor and fuck you instead.”

Jason shudders, and he does nothing to hold back the moan that earns Tim. He presses his mouth to Tim’s neck again though, kissing him firmly before his hands fall to Tim’s hips again and tug at his pants.

“If you never hold up that threat, I won’t forgive you for as long as I live,” Jason mumbles sloppily against Tim’s skin as he hastily gets Tim out of his pants and underwear. Tim makes a noise, but Jason’s not really worried about getting a promise on that right now.

He pulls back from Tim’s neck and glances down his body, taking him in. He’s already hard, cock pressed between their bodies and twitching slightly with every bit of movement having it grind into them. Jason wets his lips, and he thinks about dropping to his knees and getting his mouth on Tim, but before he can allow that thought to go further, Tim’s reaching for his pants and getting them open.

Jason allows him to slide them down and off, allows Tim to get his underwear out of the way too. And Jason’s just as hard as Tim is, but he’s a lot wetter. He would be embarrassed if Tim didn’t make one of the filthiest noises he’s ever heard as he takes him in hand and strokes him slowly.

“Fuck,” Jason hisses, and Tim echoes the noise as his thumb brushes over the leaking head of Jason’s cock.

“I want you inside me.” There’s no finesse, at all and Jason shudders again from just how fucking blunt Tim is. “I wasn’t hoping for sex that night but… fuck I wouldn’t have been disappointed if it happened.”

“You’re gonna fucking kill me.” Jason grunts as he reaches out and takes Tim’s wrist. He doesn’t want the contact gone, because Tim’s hand on his cock feels fucking amazing, but he needs to be able to move, and he can’t do that with Tim holding onto him.

Jason grabs Tim under the backs of his thighs and hoists him up the wall. Tim’s arms come around his shoulders instantly, holding onto him tight as his legs wrap around Jason’s waist. And he leans in again, clearly intent on kissing Jason more, but Jason’s lifting his hand between them and pressing his fingers to Tim’s mouth first. Which gets the hint across, and Tim gets to work sucking on them firmly, bobbing his head in a way that makes Jason wish that Tim was between his thighs instead.

Jason’s quick to pull his fingers from Tim’s mouth, both before he gets too lost in it and because he’s impatient and wants to feel Tim around him probably just as badly as Tim wants Jason to be inside him.

The moment that Tim’s mouth is free, he’s leaning in to kiss Jason again. Just as rough, just as firmly and eager. Jason moans into it, his teeth grazing over Tim’s bottom lip as his hand moves down under Tim, moving to his rim, teasing the muscle slowly before he pushes a finger in without too much caution. He doesn’t want to hurt Tim, but he doesn’t want to leave him frustrated either.

Tim whines against his lips, and the sound isn’t concerning because Tim’s pushing back down onto Jason’s hand, and his body opens up so nicely that Jason would have thought he was made for it. It makes Jason grin, wide enough to break the kiss and Tim has to pull back.

“Don’t say anything,” Tim huffs and Jason laughs.

“I wasn’t going to.”

“Just fuck me already, please.”

“Have you done this before?” Jason opens his eyes just in time to see Tim rolling his own with a groan.

“I’m not going to beg, but I’m also not going to wait.” It sounds like a proper threat, and maybe another time Jason will push his luck. But right now, he wants this too.

Jason gives Tim a little more with his fingers, curling them into his body before he pulls them out. He gets a good hold on Tim’s thighs and hoists him up a little more as he angles his hips forward just enough for the head of his cock to brush against Tim’s hole. This time, Tim shakes against him with a hiccupped noise catching in his throat. Jason slowly pushes forward as he pulls Tim down onto him.

It takes a bit of adjusting, a bit of shifting the angle until Jason’s able to slide in until Tim’s basically resting on his hips. He keeps one arm around Tim’s back while the other hand comes to the wall, pressing into it to keep himself balanced. Tim’s face is pressed into the side of his neck, moaning and whining loudly as he keeps his hold firm on Jason. His thighs are shaking, his cock is throbbing, twitching against their stomachs, and his hole flutters around Jason’s cock.

“Let me know when I can move, baby bird.” Jason grunts. He doesn’t expect Tim to give a frustrated groan of his own and to rut his hips down into Jason’s own.

“Jason, fucking hell _please_.”

Jason grins, turning his head to firmly kiss Tim’s temple as he gives him what he wants. His fingers tighten on Tim’s body and he draws his hips back before thrusting back in, not too hard or fast. It has Tim’s breath hitching in that fucking perfect way though, and Jason moans just from the sound of it alone.

He doesn’t dare stop now.

The pace that he builds up is quick and rough, fucking deep into Tim, shoving him roughly against the wall. Tim rocks back into each thrust, his head knocking against Jason’s as their moans meld together, as their bodies become one.

With the way that Tim moves, Jason feels like he’s the one getting fucked. He’s rough and eager, body taking him so perfectly that Jason’s unable to even praise Tim on how good it feels. He’s sure that the way his eyes continue to roll closed portrays enough just how incredible it feels to be inside Tim.

One of Tim’s hands falls from around Jason’s shoulders, dropping between their bodies to take hold of his own cock. Jason can barely keep his eyes open enough to watch as Tim strokes himself. And he isn’t doing it to drag this out, he’s jerking himself to get off like they’re on a time crunch or something. Which isn’t a bad thing, it’s hot how desperate he is, but Jason’s mentally taking note to take it slow next time.

Tim whimpers, his body clenching tight around Jason’s cock as he starts moving even more frantically against Jason’s body, even with the limited amount of space between them.

“J-Jay… oh fuck.”

“Yeah,” Jason exhales, his voice shaking, his body doing the same as he watches Tim jerk himself off. “‘m close.”

Tim whimpers again, nodding frantically. It doesn’t take long from there before Tim’s back arches off the wall, and Jason has to tighten his grip on his body and push forward more so that he doesn’t lose his balance from the sudden movement. Tim cries out, head tipped back as he comes between their bodies. And with Tim clenching around him through his orgasm, there’s no way that Jason could ever hope to hold off.

It’s difficult for him to slow his thrusts long enough to pull out, his hand sliding from the wall to take hold of his own cock. He barely has to jerk himself off before he’s coming, resisting the urge to bite into Tim’s shoulder to silence himself.

Once his breathing is somewhat under control again, Jason slowly lowers Tim to the ground, setting him on his feet, keeping them both up by leaning into him and pressing him into the wall still.

“You didn’t have to pull out,” Tim murmurs, voice low like he almost hopes Jason didn’t hear what he said. Jason groans and turns his head, kissing the corner of Tim’s mouth.

“Next time.” He says, and it’s a promise.

“So… in like an hour?”

“Fucking hell.” Jason laughs, shaking his head as he wraps his arms around Tim’s body. He kisses across Tim’s throat, across the scar he left in his skin. “Yeah baby, I’ll give you anything you want.”

And that’s a promise too. Because Jason has never wanted to give to someone more than he does Tim right now. And he hopes that he’ll be able to give to him for a long time yet. Because Tim is the best part of him, and he doesn’t want that to change ever.


End file.
